


Not Alone

by cloudy_path



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Crowley, Angels, But also not, Fluff, Heaven, M/M, Sad, What did I expect, aziraphale being aziraphale, basically crowley falls and aziraphale stands by his side the whole time, fall fic, falling is a terrifying affair and i didn't make it seem that way at all, glorification of falling, i guess, is that what you call them, its vague but what did you expect, or flies, soft, years of writing cas fics have prepared me for this moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 15:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20137393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudy_path/pseuds/cloudy_path
Summary: Crowley didn't fall, he sauntered vaguely downwards.





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> i actually imagined crowley had weird friends that did weird shit and in the end he fell even though he didn't do anything, but this is nice, too...  
based on a poem by Pablo Neruda called Your Hands

The divine domain had something of every child's dream. The cotton-dandy clouds were scattered across the white plain as if somebody had carefully placed each one of them individually. The monuments were of white hues and as light as Styrofoam, though the walls and gates resembled iron in its strength. However, it is important to note that none of the gates, fences or fortresses had been built to shield or to destroy. Heaven overflowed with an air of trust, faith and love for one another. Up in the sky, there was nothing to fear and while rivalries were in no way uncommon, the relations never carried malice on their backs. Even the greatest of enemies would lay down their swords and rejoin in a celebration of their ambiguous views.

  
This was Heaven before the rebellion.

  
The angels moved about peacefully in their robes which made a magnificent contrast to their white surroundings for they appeared in all of nature's colours. The citizens of this land discovered new things daily and experimented with everything they had at hand. A list hung on one of the edifices of Heaven. Musicians, scientists and writers were just a fraction of the professions that were listed on a sheer endless list. Nearly everyday angels came to scratch new words into the stone tablet. Everything was new and thus had to be accordingly researched.

  
Up until this point, every angel was the next's equal. To them, it didn't matter which angel God favoured the most, as long as they knew they would never be alone; how could they, in such a vast sea of friends. They knew they weren't alone simply because a feeling of loss or loneliness hadn't been invented yet, not concerning fellow divine creatures. You could say, the human condition hadn't been created yet (whether Heaven or Hell had been culpable there for is unclear).

  
But when the stars began falling, one by one by one, many bereaved angels couldn't focus on their tasks anymore. They couldn't be bothered to uphold a conversation with their siblings because why would a man stand on his feet when his legs were rent from his hips. Somebody tore their family away from them in such a sense that they weren't family anymore. The connection was cut. All these angels were left to do was pray to their Father, begging for an answer to the inevitable question. Why would He disown His children in such a manner?

  
Some angels fell from the clouds they called home much too sudden and as they soared towards the ground they thought with all their power but they never could comprehend why.

  
It was then that a young angel slipped on the rim of Heaven. He went by a name that history forgot but which still lingers at the back of one's mind when one casts their Eyes to the nightly firmament, for he put the stars and the planets there (not the moons, that wasn't his division). For a moment, he remained in the lofty plains, shielded by the love of Heaven, encased in Faith and Trust completely, before he faced the unavoidable. The last face he saw was that of his closest confidante and his greatest love. A love greater than the one for his Father and Creator.

* * *

  
  
Locks of fire reached for the clouds, somebody was throwing feathers of white upwards. This couldn't be. He created stars and planets, he built walls, no matter what, he always found a solution. But now no even his wings obeyed his will. The velocity of his fall made him forget he was falling at all. Still, he could only think of what expected him at the end. He shut his eyes tightly as the answer stepped out of the mists of his mind. It was the reality of the world.

  
His arms wrapped themselves tightly around his body as he hid away from the whistling wind about his ears, the cutting blade of the air around him and the image of his home growing ever so smaller somewhere deep inside his body.

  
Therefore it took a few moments for the crestfallen angel to come around to the warm feeling of touch on his elbows. As he opened his eyes slowly the world around him stopped moving. While feathers that obtained the permission to fly held them steadily in the air.  
His name was Aziraphale, a name that didn't bear any significance in the eyes of their brothers and sisters, but he knew that his calling was soon to b revealed.

  
'!', he exhaled in a stressed manner. He wanted to call out the other's name and thank him, instead he snaked an arm around the other's hips and held on tightly. His face disappeared in the angel's neck where he promptly felt a hot liquid on his cheek which he usually associated with joy. Now there was no ecstasy, only a hole in his chest as big as his fist.

  
'I have forgotten your name', he cried in the angel's neck.

  
One arm let go of his elbow and cradles his cheek instead, gently guiding his face to look at him. With the tips of his fingers he caressed his forehead and red strands, let them stray over his left cheek and stopped at his lips where he removed them altogether. The falling one couldn't remember this angel, not wholly, at least. A sense of familiarity surged through his tired body at the touch of those soft hands upon his skin, There was a softness to the individual wrapped around him that he felt would last through centuries of nothingness. He knew he has experienced this before, but when? But where?

  
'We do not need names, dearest. Not anymore. For are names not mere description of something only God is capable of describing?'

  
He realized that they were moving again. An unknown force was pulling him downwards against every effort the angel made.

  
'I do not recall my name', he whispered.

  
The angel rested his free hand on his chest, right where the hole had unclosed itself.  
Eyes of yellow gazed at the figure before him. For the last time in a long time, he remembered the hair of clouds upon his head, the fabrics of grain adorning his celestial body, those eyes that held the very essence of Heaven and the wings that shone like a million crowns in the light. He remembered the touch of this stranger's skin and the genius of his wonderful mind which escaped the confines of his skull and poured over his whole being, making him beautiful and perfect in every sense of the words.

  
While they were slowly sauntering downwards, the sky changed its colour, as it always did, to the hues of night. All the way, they held onto each other tightly, wordlessly gazing at the other. One basked in the strange familiarity and one grasped the final memories tightly.  
As the sky turned black the only light up above came from the angel. He held tight until his love had disappeared from his arms. There was nothing more he could do.  
  


* * *

  
A little time later behind a majestic tree, two angels fell into an embrace of which they were both surprised. Their bodies were bound to one another by far more than memories and souvenirs. And even though one of the angels was missing something essentially celestial, the gesture remained the purest and holiest in all of history.

**Author's Note:**

> read discworld and stay in school, kids


End file.
